


Voltron Typetrigger Collection

by scriveyner (trismegistus)



Series: Voltron Fic Collection [34]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Microfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 13:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19768786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trismegistus/pseuds/scriveyner
Summary: A collection of short (300 words or less) micro fic for Voltron. Multi-pairings.





	1. still shopping

Gorlicans, it turned out, were slippery little bastards.   
  
Really, Shiro reasoned, he shouldn’t be surprised by this. The small, lizard-like species was especially common in the systems on the furthest edges of Galra territory where the Empire’s grasp was the shakiest. Gorlicans sold their services to the highest bidder, and often double and triple-crossed their employers to the tune of whomever could pay them the most.   
  
All that being said, this Gorlican in particular neatly ran through the small gap between Shiro and Keith and almost disappeared into the maze of street vendor stalls. It was only thwarted by the fact that it didn’t expect Hunk to be as quick as he was.   
  
Hunk caught the diminutive alien with one hand and hoisted it, and it screamed and screeched in a native tongue that had more in common with the background fauna of a jungle cruise than the common tongue that mercenaries and traders spoke. It curled up, clutching its tail between vestigial arms, and glared darkly as it spun slowly in Hunk’s grip.   
  
“Trying to run when we walk through the door isn’t the smartest plan,” Lance said, and jabbed the small alien with his finger. It hissed at him and snapped, but Lance was at least quick enough not to lose a finger. “Space cops make another arrest!"   
  
"It’s not an arrest,” Shiro said mildly. “We just have some questions,” he added, directing the second part of his statement toward the Gorlican. They weren’t _actually_ ‘space cops’, no matter what Lance said to the contrary.   
  
“What sssort of quessstionsss?” the Gorlican responded finally, in something approximating a language they could understand. “I will cooooperate, for the right priccce."   
  
"How about: 'not turning you into a hat,’” Keith growled.   
  
The Gorlican thought about this for a moment. “Fair enough.”


	2. the new guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shklance

“Shiro!”

Keith broke out at a run, past Lance, and straight into Shiro’s arms. Shiro’s hair had grown long and unkempt, the trailing ends tied into a loose tail that vanished into the thick material of his cloak. He wore a week’s worth of scruff on his face and the most baffled expression Lance had ever seen as he looked down at Keith in his arms. Lance’s hands tightened on his blaster rifle, although its muzzle was still pointed down at the soil under their feet.

“Keith?” Shiro said, and his voice, so familiar, so _missed_ sent a shiver down Lance’s spine. “What are you doing here!?”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Keith said, choking on the words, his hands fisted tight in the material of Shiro’s cloak. Lance’s heart was in his throat and he swallowed around the lump it created even as Keith lifted his head slightly, looking back over his shoulder at Lance imploringly.

Shiro had tentatively draped his arms over Keith, that look of confusion melting into a gradual wonder. Then his attention drifted back up to Lance, and the bayard in Lance’s hands. Lance felt a prickling sensation creep down his back, something wasn’t right. Something was very, very wrong.

It was all in the way that Shiro was looking at him now, concern and wariness and he had his arms around Keith but he didn’t open them to Lance, too. They had been looking for so long, and Lance should have run straight to Shiro just as Keith did, but instead he hesitated. Instead, Lance took a deep breath, steadying himself but even so he still wasn’t prepared, there was no way he could have been prepared for _this_.

“Who are you?” Shiro asked, and it was like the world fell away.


	3. buy milk

Keith walked into the galley to see Lance and Pidge huddled around the island in the center, staring at something with a burning intensity. Lance had his arms folded and had all his attention on whatever it was they were staring at, so Keith shrugged and walked over, draping an arm over Lance’s back and leaning forward to look as well.

That went about as well as could be expected, as Lance yelped and jumped upright, flailing his arms comically wide. Keith simply stepped aside and avoided the worst of the Startled Lance Fallout. Pidge merely looked up at him. “That was mean.”

He shrugged. “What’s that?”

The item that had fallen under such scrutiny was a clear carafe of thick blue liquid. Lance, having mostly recovered, jabbed his finger at it. “Coran says it’s milk.”

“Blue milk,” Keith said, unimpressed.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s milk,” Pidge said. “I’m not trying it to find out, though.” She shot a considering glance to Keith, who shook his head and backed up.

“Don’t look at me, I’m lactose intolerant,” he said. “Besides, alien milk is still milk, right?”

“There is no way I’m putting alien boob juice in my cereal,” Lance said. “I don’t care what Hunk says.”

“If Hunk says it’s fine then it’s fine.” Keith had grown bored of this diversion and was fetching a drink from the cooler. “I don’t get the issue here.”

“The issue is it’s blue,” Pidge said.

“I’m going to go milk Kaltenecker,” Lance announced, and flounced out the door. Keith blinked after him, and then looked at Pidge, who had returned to regarding the carafe with intensity. Keith shrugged, stuck a straw in his drink pouch, and wandered out of the galley, heading for the training deck.

He _really_ didn’t understand people, sometimes.


	4. failing vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shance

He’d taken the hit as they escaped into the thick alien jungle; hesitating too long on a shot when the plasma bolt scored a line of fire across his face and caused him to stumble backward, falling into darkness.

A blur of impressions followed, a mixture of being carried and stumbling along, his arm in a firm grasp, and when Lance finally had the wherewithal to moan Shiro’s hand covered his mouth firmly, the message clear. The danger had not yet passed.

He wasn’t certain how long it had been when his senses finally started to return, when he felt Shiro press a cool, damp cloth to his face and murmur at him in a low tone. “Lance, can you look at me? Can you open your eyes for me?” and, oh, that hurt more than he’d ever expected, cracking his eye open through the caked, dried blood on his face.

He squinted at Shiro in the low light of an alien dawn, the first of the binary stars that illuminated this system creeping above the horizon, and Shiro’s expression was strained and not quite as relieved as he had expected. Lance reached to wipe the dried blood from his face and Shiro caught his hand before he could, kissed his forehead and said, instead, “wait.”

“That bad, huh?” Lance said, trying for cocky but only making it through resigned.

“The plasma bolt cauterized it,” Shiro said as he wrapped the cool, clean bandage around Lance’s head. It did nothing for the pain, but it made Shiro feel better as they waited on evac. “We’ll get you in the cryo replenisher, fix you up good as new.”

Lance touched the bandages that covered his left eye, and said with a self-deprecating smile, “the med-pods can’t replace what’s been lost, Shiro.” 


	5. not allowed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shance + Keith

Lance was, without a doubt, the most _annoying_ person Keith had ever had the displeasure to know. Keith slammed his palm against the shower wall, hot water running down his head along his back as he revisited for the umpteenth time their interaction on the training deck while they were all practicing against the flying drones… Lance’s oh-so-casual smirk as he’d loosed three shots from his bayard that had taken out _four_ drones, and one he hadn’t even been _looking at._

And then, most infuriatingly of all, he’d _winked at Keith._

Keith shoved his hands back in his wet hair and faced the hot spray. He wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off of Lance’s face and would easily do so on the mat but Shiro had felt him losing his cool and put a stop to that right away, hand solid on Keith’s shoulder but addressing them all as he did so. “Good work team, let’s wrap it up for the day. Time to hit the showers.”

Lance had smacked Hunk on the shoulder, still grinning that damnable smirk, as he’d followed Hunk out of the training room but Shiro kept his hand on Keith’s shoulder, possessive. He pitched his voice low when he spoke, though everyone else was already out of the room. “Are we going to have a problem?”

They _already_ had a problem – brown hair, blue eyes and a saucy grin – but that wasn’t what Shiro was asking, exactly, his tone pitched like that, meant for the two of them alone.

“No sir,” Keith forced out between clenched teeth, and after a too-long moment Shiro lifted his hand and let Keith leave.

_Look, but don’t touch,_ Shiro had said to him, and god _damn_ it Keith wasn’t ready to face that particular can of worms today.


	6. revival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sheith

Shiro was covered in mud and bleeding from where he’d been hit so hard his helmet cracked, and he didn’t bother to check if the atmosphere was hospitable before he ripped the helmet off his head, gasping in the twilight air. Above him, the Marmora transport ship shot by, nearly blasting him off his feet with its passage and followed by a flight of Galra fighters dispatched from orbit.

“Shiro!”

Keith’s voice was music to his ears, he had heard it just earlier in the battle before they’d taken the planet back for the coalition, but it was so much better in person even with exhaustion dripping from every syllable. He hadn’t seen Keith in the flesh for weeks, _months_ now and here he was, running across the mud and the muck in the Blade’s uniform like he belonged with them and not at Shiro’s side.

He opened his arms and moved to meet Keith, caught him up in his arms and held him close. Months, _months_ and it was a lifetime to him and Keith shoved at him, tried to break free. “Now’s not the time,” he said but the battle was won, it was all clean-up now and he could have this, this moment he’d put off and prized for so long. “We have to get back to the shuttle, Shiro, there’s not much time!”

Keith had pushed slightly away when Shiro caught his face, turned it up to him and stared at him. Keith’s brow creased in worry, he touched Shiro’s brow with one hand, tender and careful but still streaking the fresh blood. “Are you all right?” he asked, and Shiro laughed despite himself.

“All better now,” he said, cupping Keith’s cheek in his hand and watching in delight as the blush spread under his fingers.


	7. beyond the sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shance, mermaid AU

Shiro sat on the rocks and watched the waves smack into the reefs in the distance. The whitecaps broke hard over the coral, though their ferocity was tempered by the time they washed to shore. Every now and then more flotsam would make it past the gauntlet, battered beyond recognition; most of it twisted hulks of metal with the occasional wood or fabric rucksack enduring the journey. No bodies, though – if anyone else survived the shipwreck, they hadn’t come ashore here.

There was a twisting knot in his chest at that thought. His friends, gone – just like that. As if they never were. No bodies to recover, no remains to return to their loved ones … just vanished into the murky depths of the sea. He stared sightlessly past the barrier and almost didn’t notice the head bobbing in the surf until the mermaid pushed himself out of the water, onto one of sandbars that littered the shore. The movement caught Shiro’s attention, and he glanced in that direction, slightly amused that the appearance of a mermaid had been commonplace enough that he wasn’t immediate struck with awe.

The mermaid stretched out his long, sinewy tail, the blue pattern of his scales sparkling iridescent in the sunlight. “We’re far off the trade routes,” he said, amplifying his voice without even trying. There was magic there, behind his words – Shiro swore his mouth never matched the words that fell from it. “The dolphins say that people rarely come ashore here, and once they do they never leave.”

“That’s encouraging,” Shiro said dryly, his palms on his knees. “You speak to dolphins often?”

“Eh,” the mermaid made a familiar motion with a hand, a so-so gesture that was apparently universal. “They don’t have cause to lie to me, although they are dicks.”


	8. rancid smell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shklance, ''Crossing Paths'' AU

Lance woke to Keith jabbing him in the side, and that was, frankly, unacceptable so he responded in kind by kicking Keith. Well, it was more an _attempt_ to kick Keith as they were both suitably tangled in the bedding and Lance wasn’t sure he made contact, but Keith jabbed him again and without opening his eyes Lance groped above his head for a pillow to wing at Keith before he realized that the demilitarized zone that Shiro occupied in their bed had been breached. He lifted his head and stared over the mound of covers at a half-awake Keith. “Dude, what _time_ is it?”

There was honestly no telling what time it was because the first concession Lance had made in the relationship was the installation of Keith’s precious black-out curtains to ensure that absolutely zero daylight made it into the bedroom. Lance mourned the thought of Shiro dusted gold by morning sunlight, but the sex was freaking fantastic so he was willing to cope. Lance wrinkled his nose as he got a good whiff of the air. “And what is that _smell?_ ”

They found Shiro in the kitchen, in his off-limits zone. “Shiro!” Lance said, scandalized, wearing only one of Shiro’s button-up shirts. Keith had begrudging followed Lance out of the room, having pulled on his favorite hoodie just in case the sun was extra-offensive. “What the hell are you doing?”

Shiro looked up and grinned, as if he wasn’t flagrantly disregarding Lance’s rule #6. “Good morning!”

“What did those eggs ever do to you?” Keith asked rubbing one eye and squinting into the rubbish bin. “They were eggs, right? Not the bacon? Lance might actually bite you this time if you wasted his bacon again.”

“I didn’t waste his bacon,” Shiro said. “I’m just making eggs today.”


	9. toll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klance

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith said, aggravated, as Lance leaned his head against his arm, elbow propped against the doorframe and his other hand resting on his cocked-out hip. “I don’t have time for this, move.”

“Mm,” Lance said. He was blocking the entrance, and if there was any other way to get into the room that didn’t involve going halfway around the ship he would take that instead, but he was tired, and pissed, and Lance apparently wanted to play games tonight and he absolutely wasn’t in the mood. “I don’t think so.”

“If you don’t move,” Keith enunciated, “I will _make_ you move.”

“Is that a threat?” Lance hadn’t lifted his head from his arm and was giving Keith that half-lidded, sleepy smirk that said that maybe he’d gotten into the spiked qatuari juice that the Olkari had given Coran. Keith couldn’t stand the stuff, it smelled like lemon varnish but Lance and Matt had quickly developed a taste for it.

“You’re drunk,” Keith said, and put his hand in the center of Lance’s chest, intending to push him out of the way except the noise that escaped from Lance when he touched him made Keith yank his hand back like he’d been scalded. “What is _wrong_ with you,” he said instead. “ _Move_.”

“You have to pay your passage,” Lance hummed a small tune and let his eyes travel up and down Keith’s form.

Yeah, he was done with this nonsense. Keith leaned in and grabbed Lance by the front of his shirt. Lance stumbled forward, eyes gone wide with surprise as Keith yanked him in to the kiss. Lance flailed himself free almost immediately, staggering back and away which allowed Keith the space to slip past him and into the room. “Stupid game, anyway,” he muttered, and didn’t look back.


End file.
